What Margaret Was Thankful For
by Jelsemium
Summary: Margaret is ill, but that does not mean that Thanksgiving has to be grim. Set in the year that Margaret was diagnosed and Don transferred back to Los Angeles.
1. Chapter 1

What Margaret was Thankful For - 15 Minute Challenge – Thanksgiving

Word Count: 459

Time: 15 Minutes

Author's Note: Yeah, what I'm writing when I should be NaNoing!

Margaret Eppes loved Thanksgiving. She loved the crisp autumn air, the family gatherings, the time to think and reflect on all the good things that she had been granted in this life. Oh, yes, and the food.

However, she was fairly certain that she would not be cooking Thanksgiving dinner this year.

She wasn't even certain that she would be eating Thanksgiving dinner this year. However, she still needed to get the show on the road.

But she needed to sit down for a bit.

Fatigue was a common side effect of chemo therapy. However, she was determined to not let it get her down. She wanted to have a… nice? Wonderful? Happy? Thanksgiving Day with her family.

After all, this could be her last one.

Margaret shook her head. This wasn't a time to be negative, no matter how realistic that negative view might be. Besides, there was always the chance for remission.

She hoped.

She wasn't sure how she was going to fix Thanksgiving dinner, but she had to at least start the preparations.

"The Wednesday before Thanksgiving, really should have a special name," Margaret said. "Panic Wednesday, perhaps, as everybody tried to do their last minute food shopping and / or get to their holiday destination before it was time to leave for home."

"Good point," Charlie said. He hesitated. "So, what do we do first?" He plopped himself at the kitchen table and eyed her anxiously.

"You're helping me with Thanksgiving dinner, are you?" Margaret asked dryly.

Charlie blinked at her. "Well, yeah," he said. "I am the logical candidate. Dad and Don are both working full time. They don't have the luxury of taking today off."

"Your father is going to try to get off early," Margaret informed him.

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, I know," he said. "However, Don may not be able to get off today at all. And, since, I was clever enough to hold my mid-terms earlier in the week, I have today off. So I thought I would do the shopping for you. It's early enough, I might be able to get to the store before the mass of crowds."

Margaret's smirk made him frown.

"I said, 'might'," Charlie said defensively.

"Well, we'd better get started, then," Margaret said.

Charlie frowned worriedly. "Shouldn't you just give me a list?" he asked.

Margaret patted him on the hand. "Charlie, I'm feeling better today," she said. "I don't want to spend all day cooped up in the house."

"Oh," Charlie said.

"Besides, I always seem to leave something off the list and won't think of it until I see it in somebody else's shopping cart," she said lightly.

"Oh, OK," Charlie said. He paused. "But if you get tired, I'm not carrying you!"


	2. Chapter 2

What Margaret was Thankful For, part 2

Word Count: 422

Time: Um, less than half an hour

* * *

When they returned from the store, Charlie went into mother hen mode. Margaret knew that she shouldn't complain, so she tried to convince herself that it was endearing.

"You need to rest, Mom," Charlie insisted. He was constantly hovering at her elbow, and Margaret wondered how he got any work done.

"Don't you have grading to do?" Margaret asked, trying to conceal her irritation.

"That is what teaching assistants are for," Charlie informed her. "I assure you, Amita Ramanujan is quite capable of dealing with that particular chore, onerous as it may be. Besides, Dr. Salton told me that I had better take good care of you or she would sic Professor Osaki on me."

"I knew that Eva was sweet on you," Margaret said.

"MOM! She is my boss!"

"Oh, right, sorry," Margaret said.

"Besides, she scares me," Charlie added.

"She did let you get your tests over with early, didn't she?" Margaret asked.

"That doesn't make her any less scary," Charlie returned.

"So, is this Amita pretty?" she teased.

"MOM!" Charlie said. "That's even worse. Amita is my student. It's against Cal Sci policy, not to mention state law, for a teacher to get involved with a student."

Margaret actually blushed. "Oh, I'm sorry, I did not realize this was such a big deal."

Charlie blushed and mumbled an apology.

Margaret patted his arm. "Charlie, I'm teasing you."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "I noticed."

There was a long pause.

"So, can this Amita cook?" Margaret asked.

Charlie laughed. "Do you want me to ask her?" he said. "I mean, to come to dinner. Her family is going to India for some business conference."

"Please, ask her to come," Margaret giggled. "Besides, I think your father might need a sous chef."

Charlie hopped up from the table and headed for the phone in the kitchen. A few minutes later, he came back and shook his head. "Nope," he said.

"You did ask her to come over and eat, not just wait on you hand and foot?" Margaret asked with some asperity.

"Of course, Mom," Charlie said. "She says that she would be happy to come over for dinner."

"Then what were you saying 'no', too?"

"Plus she volunteered to help with the vegetables and the clean up."

"Ah," Margaret said. "Let me guess, she doesn't cook turkey because she's a vegetarian?"

"That's not it," Charlie said. "Amita says that she would rather grade two hundred mid-terms than to try to wrestle a turkey. She's tried it before, and she's always lost."


	3. Chapter 3

What Margaret was Thankful For, Part 3

Word count: Don't know anymore because I just edited the story before posting here.

Time: Um….. no clue. Probably less than an hour.

* * *

Margaret Mann Eppes felt like throwing up. It was a common side effect of her chemo therapy. However, she was determined to keep her food where it belonged. Her family did not need to be forcibly reminded of her illness. They were having enough problems as it was. 

Besides, nausea was a common side effect of holiday stress, too.

They had a lot of guests coming for Thanksgiving dinner, including Aunt Irene, and this was the morning that their oven had decided to stop working. However, they had risen to the emergency.

Alan had decided to put the turkey on the barbecue. "Lucky we realized the oven was dead in time," he said cheerfully.

"How long does this take?" Don asked.

"Oh, about the same as the oven," Alan said. "About half an hour per pound. It's just that we need time to get the charcoal going."

"Ah," Don said. "What do you need me to do?"

"How about you check the stove to see if that's working?" Alan asked.

"Good idea," Don said. He wandered back into the kitchen and turned on the burners, one at a time and held his hand over each one.

"Oh, Donnie, are you making tea?" Margaret asked. She walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table.

"No, but I will," Don said. Suiting action to words, he put the kettle on. What better way to test to see if the burner was working?

"Is Terry coming?" Margaret asked.

Don nodded. "She be here soon. She said that she'd be bringing the crudities."

"Cru-de-tes," Margaret said, not really expecting to correct Don's deliberate mispronunciation of the French word for snacks.

Don smirked and hunted through the cupboard for the tea bags. "What kind?" he asked.

"Amita brought a selection of teas as well as the sparkling apple cider," Margaret said. "I'll have the chai, please."

Don nodded and opened the package. "So, did anyone think to bring Champagne or should I make an emergency run to BevMo?

"Aunt Irene is bringing some," Margaret said. "She said she is bringing the quote good stuff unquote."

"Excellent," Don said. "I knew there was a reason to invite her."

Margaret let that slide. "Where's Charlie?" Margaret asked. "We may not need more Champagne, but we have to do something about dessert. I expect that everybody is already out of pies by now."

"Chuck and his buddy Fleinhardt are trying to bake pies in a solar oven, if you can believe that," Don said. "Fleinhardt insists that it is an economical way to bake pies."

"Well, it's that or ice cream," Margaret sighed.

Don shrugged. "We could always make Pop Tarts," he suggested. "Assuming that the toaster works."

Margaret laughed. "Well, we'll see if it comes to that," she said. She tried to picture Aunt Irene eating a Pop Tart and the image almost banished her nausea.

Just then, a lovely young woman with cinnamon skin, dark hair and sparkling eyes came up to the back door. She was holding a fragrant apple pie in her mittened hands.

"Oh, Don, have you met Amita Ramanujan?" Margaret asked.

"Please to meet you," Amita said.

Don tilted his head. "Hello," he said. "You're Charlie's grad student, right?"

"I am," Amita said.

"I take it the pie baking is going well?" Don said curiously.

"Believe it or not, it's actually working," Amita reported. She held up the apple pie. "At the rate we're going, we'll have enough pies to open our own shop."

"What are they making?" Don asked. He pulled out some tea cups. "Would you like some chai tea?" he asked Amita.

"Yes, please," Amita said.

"Well, aside from this one, Charlie and Larry have the makings for a peach pie, a pumpkin pie, a harvest pie, a mince pie and a chocolate silk pie," Amita said.

"That's a relief," Margaret said.

Don grinned. "Maybe I should go out and offer them some help," he said. "I'll leave the green beans to you lovely ladies."

"You're too kind," Margaret said to Don's retreating back.

"We can make the green bean casserole in the microwave oven," Amita said. "I looked up a few recipes online."

"Oh, good," Margaret said. "We can keep it warm in the chaffing dish. The mashed potatoes can be made on the stove top, and so can the sweet potatoes." She frowned. "I don't know how to make the croissants without an oven, though."

"Larry brought three packages of croissants and dinner rolls," Amita said. "We can warm them up in the microwave, as needed."

Alan came inside. "It's time to put the turkey on," he said happily. "Man, I think we could get away with just pies, the way those two are baking up a storm."

"So, as long as nothing else breaks, we're set," Margaret said.

"Oh, we're set no matter what happens," Alan said. "If all fails, I can always break out the blow torch!"

Margaret laughed. Maybe the day wasn't picture perfect, but it was still fun. And she was grateful for having one more Thanksgiving with her family. She was determined to make the best of whatever opportunities she had left.


End file.
